Carried Away
by livingforthememory
Summary: Modern Romeo and Juliet- When the children of feuding lawyers meet at a party, neither is ready for what happens next. Will they be able to keep their relationship a secret, or will their star-crossed love destroy everything around them? Lyrics from Death and All His Friends by Coldplay and Romeo and Juliet by The Killers.
1. The Fight

_All summer, we just hurried…_

"What the hell are you looking at?" Adam Montag hissed, staring down Greg Capp in the hall after class. His brother Bal backed him up, keeping Greg's brother Simon at bay.

"Definitely not you," Greg scoffed. "I don't waste my time looking at your kind."

"My kind? Do you know who the hell I am?" Adam asked, his voice and his temper rising.

"A fucking Montag, that's who, you ass," Greg snorted, pushing his chest closer to Adam's.

Adam laughed, winked at Bal, and swung. Greg took the blow straight to his jaw, cursing and spitting. Then, all hell broke loose. Simon reacted, grabbing Bal and slamming him into the wall. Adam continued to pummel Greg, the Capp breaking in with the odd elbow to the gut.

A crowd was gathering- sweaty high-schoolers with pent-up angst and small attention spans. Fights were a weekly occurrence at Verona High, especially with the bad blood between the Capps and the Montags. No one knew exactly how the feud had started, but something had happened during a case between the first generation of Capps and Montags, attorneys at law, and everyone in town had taken sides. The two family firms had represented competing companies, and someone had lost big. The rumors and mystique that surrounded the case had transcended the years, and the blowout was probably bigger than the incident itself. Even the youngest members of the families embraced the hatred, finding any chance they could to show just what they thought of each other.

Bal was having a hard time controlling Simon. Simon had him in a headlock, and his face was turning the color of a tomato. Adam was doing much better with Greg; he had him against a locker, knocking his teeth out to the rhythm of "Fight, fight, fight!" A steady flow of blood and swears came from the fighters.

"Adam! ADAM!"

Someone grabbed Adam from behind, pulling him away from his punching bag. It was his cousin Ben, another Montag. Adam tried to wrestle himself from Ben's grip to get back to the action, but Ben was too strong. He held Adam's punching arm with one hand, and shoved Simon from Bal with the other.

"Everybody calm the hell down!" Ben screamed. The crowd went silent. Only one person dared to speak.

"Quite the peacemaker, Benny," Tyler Capp snarled, the audience parting to let him through. "You sure have changed."

"What are you doing here, Tyler?" Ben asked darkly, letting go of him cousins.

"You know I never miss a brawl." Tyler smiled, and barreled towards Ben. The crowd roared, and the cousins of each family went at it again, starting right where they left off. Tyler's fist connected with Ben three, four, five times.

"I'm not going to fight you," Ben groaned, doubling over in pain.

"Good," Tyler laughed. "We wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself."

Suddenly, as quickly as they had formed, the spectators scattered. The principal, Mr. Escal, came marching down the hallway, followed by Officer King, police chief of Verona, Illinois. The six boys peeled themselves away from each other, panting and assessing the damage. Mr. Escal shook with rage, but Officer King just looked on with stern authority.

"Boys," the principal thundered, "my office. Now."

Tyler and Adam swaggered ahead, while the others followed glumly behind. Ben looked uncharacteristically murderous, like he could rip someone in half.

Dr. Capp and Dr. Montag sat in the principal's office in stony silence. Neither one would even look at the other. Even when their sons and nephews entered, they didn't move, only stared ahead. The principal and the police chief sat on the opposite side of the desk, and the fighters lined up against the wall. Montag shifted in his seat.

"Doctors," Mr. Escal began, "this is no longer boys being boys. Your children have been in three altercations in the past eight weeks alone. Each time, the authorities have had to be called in."

Officer King cleared his throat. "Mr. Escal and I have talked it over, and even though the school term has almost ended, we have agreed that, if any more… disputes," his eyes passed over the boys, "occur over the course of the summer, anyone involved will not only be expelled, but will be arrested and punished to the full extent of the law."

The boys rumbled their dissent, but the two feuding men only muttered agreement, grabbed their respective briefcases, and stood, smoothing their Italian suits. Without looking at their children, they left the office, the boys trailing behind.

"Benjamin," Montag whispered as they left the school, walking towards the Doctor's personal Rolls Royce, "have you seen Romeo?"

"If your asking if he was involved, he wasn't," Ben muttered. "He didn't come to school today."

"Still brooding over that Violet?" Montag scoffed.

"Rose," Ben corrected angrily, "and yes, still 'brooding.'"

"He's always been a frivolous boy." The attorney shook his head, evidently disappointed in his son's interest for love.

"I'll talk to him," Ben snapped. His uncle slid into the driver's seat and looked at him expectantly.

"I'm walking home."

* * *

_Try, try, try, try…_

I sat by the pool, staring into the clear blue water, nursing my second bottle of beer. I wanted nothing more than to jump in and float there forever, to escape the pain in my heart. How could she not love me? How could someone so beautiful hurt so deeply? I slumped in my plastic chair, savoring the uncomfortable distraction.

"Still moping, Ro?" Ben had snuck up behind me, taking a swig of my beer. "C'mon, cuz. Who cares about some broad?"

"She's not 'some broad,' Ben. I love her, with all my heart."

He snorted. "You don't even know what love is yet, Ro. I guarantee you'll forget her within a week. Two, tops."

"And I guarantee you're full of shit," I retorted, still staring into the pool.

"Geez, Romeo," Ben breathed, scratching his neck. "I'm gonna get you out of this funk, ok? The Capps have a summer kick-off every year. Rose'll be there, along with every other girl in Verona. And so will you."

"The Capps?" I shifted to look at him. "Tyler will murder us as soon as we walk in the door."

"We had a little, er, disagreement today. King got involved. Tyler wouldn't dare touch us after that."

"Can't you two keep your hands off each other for one day?" I chuckled, my mood lifting. I grabbed my beer and took a thoughtful sip. There was hope. I could convince Rose that I was worth it, if I got the chance. "Ok, we'll go. I'll let you tell Marc- he'll be ecstatic."

"Hell yes."


	2. The Party

Junior year ended a week later, without any further quarrels. I was still a little apprehensive about going to the Capp party. There's no telling what Tyler could do to us on his home turf. But I would get to see Rose, and that was worth 50 of Tyler's fists.

"Geez, Ro, how long does it take you to get pretty?!" Ben shouted from downstairs. I was in my room, getting ready for the party. I had to look perfect for Rose. What did she like? The bad-boy type? Hipster? Prep?

"Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo?!" Marc cackled. "Get your ass down here, and let's get us some girls!"

"There's only one girl for me," I muttered, grabbing my wallet and dashing down the stairs.

"Ow, ow!" Marc exclaimed. "Someone's looking fine tonight. You're not trying to impress the Capps, are you?" I could tell he had already been drinking. This was going to be a long night.

"I shouldn't even go tonight," I told Ben, who was waiting by the door.

"Ro-me-o, of course you're going," Marc slurred, leaning on my shoulder. "You haven't been having dreams again, have you?" he whispered in my ear.

"What do dreams matter?" I asked bitterly.

"'It does not do to dwell on dreams,'" he quoted. "Dreams are lies."

"Just how many beers has he had so far?" I laughed, turning to Ben.

Ben grinned. "Maybe five."

"Perfect, let's go."

* * *

_So come on over…_

Shouts and dance music could be heard three blocks away. Me, Ben, Marc, and a few of our friends made our way down the street to the Capp mansion. You could almost smell the teenage rebellion radiating.

About fifty people pulsed and swayed on the lawn, waving their solo cups to the beat of the base. Sweat and beer mixed, giving the whole scene a fitting odor. How the hell was I going to find Rose in this crowd?

Marc whooped and, followed by his henchmen, charged into the mob, snatching someone's cup and draining it of beer. Ben slapped my on the back, whispered a "Good luck," and ran to join Marc in the chaos.

My head was already pounding from the music and the partial earthquake created every time the crowd jumped. I pushed through the tangle of bodies and into the mansion, winding through couples kissing, passed-out drunks, and kegs. I wandered around for a little while, still searching for Rose. I was getting desperate, whipping around corners at increasing speed. I turned into yet another living room, and bumped right into the most beautiful girl I've seen, prettier than Rose, than Venus herself.

"Oh! Sorry," she breathed. "Didn't see you there."

It took me a few seconds to register that I was just standing there staring at her. Needless to say, she noticed before I did.

"Um, hi," she laughed. God, I was an idiot.

"Hey," I replied, flashing my most winning smile. "Do you want a drink?"

The girl's eyes widened, and I felt someone grab me from behind. He shoved me up against the wall and held me there. Tyler.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Montag?" he hissed in my ear, his eyes on fire with rage.

"I don't want any trouble, man," I said, holding up my hands and trying to hide my fear. Tyler wasn't a guy you wanted to back down to.

"You shouldn't even be here!" he yelled, pushing me harder into the wall.

"Tyler…" the girl pleaded, grabbing his arm. She knew him?

"C'mon, Tyler, you don't want to fight at your own party, do you?" Ben said, appearing suddenly behind the Capp.

"Yeah, Tyler, let the kid go. The night is young; you have better people to be talking to," Marc crooned from Tyler's other side.

"Tyler, please," the girl whispered. I guess she had the right effect- Tyler let go of my shoulders, leaving them sore and stiff.

"Stay away from my cousin," he said finally, giving me one last shove. Tyler stalked off, followed by Marc, singing show tunes and shaking his ass, and Ben, who patted me on the shoulder sympathetically.

I looked back at the girl, confused. "Cous- You're a Capp?"

"Juliet," she murmured, looking at her feet. "You're a Montag?"

"Romeo," I answered, running a hand through my hair. I could see the internal struggle play out on her face, head against heart. Finally, she looked at me.

"Kiss me?" she whispered.

"With pleasure." Our lips met, my hands tangling in her silky auburn hair, hers gently touching my arms, like I was the only thing anchoring her to the ground, like she might fly away. Stars danced behind my eyes. Our kisses grew faster, more fervent. It felt wrong; it felt like the rightest thing I'd ever done. We kissed, years passing in an instant.

We finally pulled apart, breathing softly. Juliet stared into my eyes, tears pricking her own. Then, she laughed softly.

"What?" I asked, smiling down at her, wiping her cheeks.

"You had to be a Montag," she said, laughing even harder.

"Ro! Ready to go?" Ben called from somewhere behind me.

"Go," she whispered, kissing me again.

"When can I see you again?" I asked, turning to go.

"Tomorrow night," she answered quietly. "Everyone's going to a party for Patrick, but I'll be sick."

I laughed, kissed her again, and ran off, finding Ben and Marc. Marc wrapped his arm around my shoulders, twisting around and making kissy-faces at Juliet. I could hear her beautiful laugh, and then, "Goodbye, good Romeo!"

As we wound through the mansion, I beamed at everyone we passed.

* * *

_Just be patient and don't worry…_

I watched Romeo leave the party, smiling the whole way. I couldn't help but smile too: I had fallen. I was lying on the ground, hopelessly in love with my enemy. And I didn't care. I didn't give a shit. But I knew a town full of people who did.

"Fuck," I whispered, leaning out my window at the side of the house. "He had to be a Montag, didn't he?"

"You're damn right I did."

I almost jumped out of my skin. I looked down, and there, right below my window, was Romeo, smiling slyly up at me. And here was I, in my bedroom, in my freaking pajamas. Sexy.

"Romeo, what the hell are you doing? If Tyler sees you, he'll murder you," I called, trying not to wake the whole house, and also unsuccessfully trying to cover up my unflattering floral tank top.

"That's a nice color on you," Romeo joked, laughing at my failed attempts.

"Romeo."

"Juliet, I don't care about Tyler, or your father, or mine. I could take on a million Tylers if it meant I could be with you."

"Romeo," I breathed, shaking my head, "you don't even know me."

"Then let me know you," he pleaded. "Let me learn all there is to know about you."

I looked around conspiratorially, then I heard it. Footsteps.

"Someone's coming," I whispered, leaning farther out the window. "Wait here."

I left the window and jumped onto my bed, just as my mother walked through the door.

"Juliet? Still up?" she asked, coming over to smooth my hair. She yawned widely.

"Sorry, Mom," I answered, "I was just going to bed."

"Did you see Patrick at the party? You two would make such a wonderful couple."

"No, I didn't see him," I replied, glancing at the window. "You know I don't like Patrick, Mom."

"I know, honey, but it would just be so great for your father's firm to have supporters like Patrick's family," she said. "His father owns one of the largest department stores in the country, and you know your father needs more big companies."

I thought of Patrick, in his shiny loafers and starched shirts. The epitome of perfect, and the last person I'd want to spend time with.

"Why does who I date have to be for Dad's firm?" I whined. "Everything else in my life already is."

"Your father needs this, Juliet. Think about it." She patted my cheek and tried to stifle another yawn, in vain. "And don't stay up too late."

"Go to bed, Mom," I said, taking her hand. She nodded slowly and wandered out of the room. I waited until she closed the door, then I leaped to the window, praying that Romeo was still there.

He was.

"It was my mother," I whispered, still fearful of being overheard.

"Send her my love," Romeo laughed.

"Ha-ha. So will you come tomorrow?"

"You know I will," he replied, suddenly sober. "If you want me, I'll come, whenever."

"Good," I called. "Eight o'clock. You can learn about me then."

"I'll be waiting," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and backing away from me, towards the street.

"So will I."


	3. The Question

That night, Juliet never left my mind. I couldn't even eat the next day, I was so focused on our date. Eight o'clock couldn't come soon enough. I hung around the house all day, getting in people's way and being generally sickening. Love does that to you, I guess. At seven, I ran to my room and started getting ready, trying to find the perfect things to wear, to say, to do. I changed I don't know how many times, then decided it was hopeless and she'd never like me and she probably didn't even remember me, anyway. Then I would think about her face and I'd change again and tell myself she loved me. This cycle repeated until 7:50 when I booked it down the stairs and out the door, leaving my parents staring after me and probably thinking I was crazy. Maybe I was.

The walk to Juliet's house brought even more agony. I kept second-guessing myself and almost turning around until I turned onto her street and told myself there was no going back. This was it.

* * *

_The dice was loaded from the start…_

Two houses down, I realized that her parents might be home, or worse, Tyler. What if they saw me? I'd be dead before I walked through the door. But Juliet wouldn't let that happen, would she? I resolved to try her window first, just to be safe. Plus, it was kind of romantic and mysterious.

I'd seen way too many teen romance movies.

After the first rock hit her window, I realized that this was a really stupid idea. After the second one, I thought she might not even be home. With the third, I was convinced she just didn't want to see me. I was looking for another rock when the window slid open.

"Romeo! What are you doing?"

I looked up, feeling like an idiot. I tried to think of a clever reason why I was standing under her bedroom window like a freak when she laughed, her face lighting up.

"You could have used the door," she teased. "Meet me around back."

She disappeared inside, and I walked around to the backyard. My breath caught in my throat; it was gorgeous. A waterfall rushed over a rocky hill, pouring into a coy pond surrounded by ferns. It was like a tropical oasis, right in the middle of Verona.

Juliet came through a set of French doors, shyly, in a white sundress and gold sandals. She looked like a Greek goddess, her long red hair falling behind her like the waterfall.

"Wow," I breathed, suddenly self-conscious in my black V-neck and jeans.

She chuckled softly, and we stood there for a few second before I figured I should probably say something.

Unfortunately, Juliet had the same idea.

"So, where-"

"How was your-"

"You first," I grinned while she tried to hide her laughter.

"No, you."

"So, where is everyone?" I asked, looking around like Tyler was going to spring out of the bushes and strangle me.

"At the banquet, for Patrick," she said. "He just got into Stanford. I told them I wasn't feeling well."

I nodded, not knowing how to respond. Juliet grabbed my hand tentatively and led me to a pair of lounge chairs.

"Still want to get to know me?" she whispered.

I kissed her softly, then plopped down onto one of them. "Of course I do."

She lay down on the other, still holding my hand between them. We stared up at the stars, and Juliet quietly told me about her life, her dreams, her ideas.

"I just… I can't wait to get out of here. I'm tired of all the hatred, you know?" she whispered, shifting her head to look at me.

"Yeah, I do," I said, watching her eyes carefully. "Before you know it, this town swallows you, and it's almost impossible to pull yourself away from the fighting and the bullshit."

She laughed in the darkness. "No one's ever said anything like that to me before."

"Maybe you aren't talking to the right people."

Juliet looked at me, her eyes widening. She leaned over, closing the gap between us, and our lips met. That kiss held all the truth and all the pain of our lives, and we shared it until it was almost too much to bear.

When we pulled apart, Juliet got up and joined me on my chair, not making a sound. I shifted to accommodate her, and she leaned against my chest with my arms around her. We watched the stars for hours, just being together.

* * *

_We lie awake, and we dream of making our escape…_

At midnight, the bright headlights of Dr. Capp's Mustang turned into the driveway, breaking us from our reverie. We hid behind the hill with the waterfall, laying against the grass and stifling laughter. I kissed Juliet fiercely, like it was the last time I'd ever see her. She held my face in her hands and beamed at me, and her expression banished all my worries. We were breaking all the rules, and neither of us gave one shit.

"Go," she whispered, pulling herself away from me. I kissed her nose lightly, and disappeared in the darkness, the sound of her laughter filling my brain.

* * *

I snuck up the stairs, hearing my parents and Tyler talking in the foyer. When I got to my room, I collapsed onto my bed in bliss, Romeo consuming my thoughts. He was different than anyone I'd ever met, and the risk of being caught made it even more exciting. He was forbidden, which only made me want him more. But even more than that, I loved who he was, not just his name.

"Juliet?" my mother said softly, peaking in my door. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," I breathed, my cheeks flushed. "Much."

* * *

That summer, whenever my mom was at a charity event, whenever my dad was working late, whenever Tyler was getting drunk at some party, Romeo would come over. Sometimes we'd talk, sometimes we wouldn't, but either way, I never wanted him to leave. With Romeo, every word was poetry, every kiss lit a fire inside me. We would drive a few towns over, just so we could go bowling or see a movie or get coffee without being recognized. Life was finally an adventure, like I'd always dreamed it would be.

"Come on," Romeo said suddenly, jumping off of my bed. I sat up slowly, confused by the quick transition. My lips still tingled from his last kiss, and here he was pulling on his shoes and searching for his keys.

"Where are we going?" I managed to ask as he pulled me to my feet and led me out of the house. He ignored me, and hopped into his red Mazda convertible. His car still made me laugh involuntarily, even after a month and a half.

"Get in," he grinned, and I had just enough time to wonder what I was getting into before I opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.

"We're going on a road trip."

"What?"

* * *

Chicago was four hours away. Romeo and I made two stops along the way: once, for McDonald's, and again to visit the World's Largest Laundromat. Romeo washed the McRib sauce from his shirt for 75 cents and we continued on our trek, laughing non-stop. I didn't think about what my mother would be thinking, not even once.

A mile from the windy city, Romeo was cursing from the traffic and we were both baking in the mid-July sun. We pulled into a parking garage around two o'clock, and then Romeo produced two tickets to the planetarium out of nowhere.

"So we can watch the stars," he explained, kissing my cheek quickly and jumping out of the car. His excitement was contagious, and I was soon smiling from ear to ear.

Inside the planetarium, Romeo showed me all the constellations: Orion, the centaur, the dragon. He told me the stories of the Greek heroes and monsters they were named for, and I just nestled closer to his chest, to his heart.

I pressed my palm to his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Suddenly, he stopped speaking and shifted to look at me. His chest rose and fell more rapidly, but his eyes were determined.

"Juliet?"

"Mmm," I murmured, waiting for him to go on.

"Wanna get married?"

My heart skipped a beat. I sat up, my hand never leaving his chest. He had pulled out a small silver ring with a tiny diamond in the center.

"Romeo," I breathed. He looked at me, waiting for an answer. I looked around us, at all the constellations and immortalized heroes, and my only thought was, _That could be us._

"I love you, Romeo," I whispered, letting him slip the ring onto my finger. I could feel our hearts beating as one.

_I love you like the stars above, I'll love you 'til I die…_


	4. The Murder

I had rented a motel room outside the city, for Juliet and me. After we left the planetarium, with Juliet playing with her ring the whole way, I drove us to the Mantua Inn. It wasn't much, but we didn't care. They didn't ask questions there, they'd never even heard of our families. And they had rooms to spare.

I held Juliet's hand, leading her up to our room, number 23. We spent the night in each other's arms, limbs tangled in the sheets. I felt on top of the world, and nothing could bring me down. Love does that to you.

The next morning, I rolled over and found Juliet's clear blue eyes on mine. I kissed her nose, and she smiled sadly.

"Romeo… let's stay forever," she whispered, leaning against me. "They'll never find us. We can just live in the city and be happy together."

I left a trail of kisses down her neck, across her shoulders, onto her back.

"We can't," I breathed against her skin. "I wish we could… But it would never work…"

"Shh, Romeo." She turned around and pressed her lips to mine. "Let's just lie here a little longer, ok?"

I kissed back hungrily. "Ok."

I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her frail body against me.

"I love you," she murmured into my chest. Her ring sparkled in the sunlight from her hand's place on my heart.

"I love you, too." Then, half an hour later, "We really need to get going. Your parents will be worried."

"You sure know how to kill a mood, huh?" she whispered, but she dragged herself out of bed anyway and put her clothes on hurriedly. I watched her, then slowly got up, too. When we were both dressed, we left our paradise and headed into reality.

* * *

_I bet, and you exploded in my heart…_

When we finally pulled into Verona, it was like our private bubble popped, and we were left worrying and wondering what happened. Juliet started crying softly when we got off the highway, and I rested my hand on hers to offer what little comfort I could give.

"Can you just… drop me off at the mall?" she sniffed through her tears. "I'll walk home from there." We both knew I couldn't take her home, someone might see us.

"Yeah," I agreed quietly. "You sure you don't want me to take you closer?"

"No, it's ok," she answered, laughing a little. "I need to pick out my wedding dress, don't I?"

I grinned at her and turned into the parking lot. I parked in the back, where no one would see. We kissed again, neither of us ready to let go. Finally, Juliet shut the convertible door behind her and walked away, glancing back every few steps. I didn't drive away until she was inside, and even then, it was hard to go.

I turned onto my street and slammed on the breaks. In the middle of the road were Tyler and Marc, circling each other, something glinting in each of their fists. Ben stood off to the side, looking around nervously. I jumped out of my car, barely waiting for the engine to stop. I ran to where Ben was standing, but Tyler saw me.

"Hey, just the guy I was looking for!" Tyler sneered, turning away from Marc. "Come to get in on the action?"

I swallowed. "I don't want to fight you, Tyler." All I could think about was Juliet and what she would think if… if something happened.

"Scared, Montag?" Tyler took a step closer, his eyes murderous. He tightened his grip on his knife, and I felt hopelessly unarmed.

"Tyler, you don't have to-" Ben started, moving forward.

"Oh, I do," Tyler muttered. "You've messed with my family too often, Romeo."

"What have I done to you?" I retorted, anger rising in my bones.

"Just keep your hands off my cousin," he warned, raising his knife.

"What are you talking about?" I whispered, my throat closing in.

"Boys, can't we settle this diplomatically?" Marc said lightly, but I saw the fear in his eyes. He fidgeted with the knife in his hand, twirling it idly.

"Stay out of this, faggot!" Tyler shouted, lunging at Marc. Marc's eyes widened, and I rushed to get between them. But I was too late. Tyler's knife was lodged deep in Marc's stomach, blood spreading across his shirt. Tyler back away, pulling out the blade; even he was shocked at what he'd done. Ben and I ran to Marc's side, just as he fell to his knees, clutching his wound. Tyler sprinted down the street, never looking back.

"Marc, Marc," I cried franticly. "Holy shit."

Marc moved his hands away. They were soaked with blood, like the rest of him.

"It's ok, kid," he gasped, trying to smile. "It's just a flesh wound."

"Oh, God," Ben kept muttering, over and over. "Oh, God. Oh, God."

"Curse.. both of you," Marc whispered, his eyes getting hazy. He reached out and grabbed my shirt, smearing it with blood. "Curse you all."

"Marc…" But he was gone. He collapsed, falling back onto the pavement. Ben choked, burying his face in his hands.

"Marc! Marc!" I screamed. "Marc, oh, Marc…"

Something snapped in me, seeing him laying there in the road, covered in red, so much red. I stood up slowly, filled to the brim with rage.

"Tyler!" I yelled. "Tyler!" I shouted to the empty streets, breaking inside, while Ben stared sadly at Marc's body. I took off running, turning down the same street as Tyler. There he was, sitting on a storm drain, the knife in his hands. He watched it blankly, like he didn't know what it was, what it could do. What it had done.

"Tyler," I huffed, gasping for breath. "You killed him. You killed my cousin."

Tyler didn't move, just kept staring at the bloody weapon.

"Are you listening to me?!" I yelled.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him, but he was ready for me. Tyler jumped up and grabbed my arm, pulling me upwards, his eyes wild. He thrust the knife towards me, but I clutched his wrist and tried to wrestle it from his grip. His free hand swung into my gut, but I wouldn't let go, desperately vying for control. Finally, the switchblade fell from his hand, landing near the drain. Tyler continued to bombard me with punches, but I was able to reach down and pick up the knife, the terrible knife. The next time one of his fists came near me, I grabbed it and pulled him closer. Before I knew what was happening, I had stabbed him, in the same place he had stabbed Marc.

Tyler back away, coughing up blood. I dropped the knife, just as Ben came running around the corner. I could hear sirens. Tyler fell to the pavement. I didn't wait for Ben's reaction, didn't wait for the ambulance- I just ran. I ran as fast as I could, as far as I could, until my legs wouldn't move anymore. Then, I collapsed, waiting for the police to find me.

_No, I don't wanna cycle, recycle revenge…_


	5. The Goodbye

I hummed softly, happily, to myself, walking up the steps to my front door. Romeo would be mine forever… The world felt like it finally made sense, like it was finally worth sticking around. The feeling didn't last long.

I drifted into the kitchen, running my hand over the counter and grabbing a smoothie from the fridge. I sipped it slowly, savoring the pleasure of the cool strawberry liquid in my throat. A breeze floated through the open patio door, and I heard them. The sirens. The piercing sound was unfamiliar, out of place in my quiet house. I vaguely wondered what was going on when my mother burst through the front door.

"Juliet! Juliet!" she called franticly from down the hall.

"In here." I ignored the panic in her voice, blinded by bliss. She ran into the bright kitchen, tears streaming down her face, her expression a mixture of relief and despair. Before I could speak, she pulled me into her arms, enveloping me in a deep hug. I realized that she was afraid of letting go, as if I might disappear right in front of her.

"Thank God," she murmured into my hair. "We've been so worried. Oh, Juliet…"

"Mom, what happened?" I asked uneasily, pulling away from her.

"When you didn't come home… and then, today… I thought you were gone." My mother gasped for breath, a new wave of tears surging.

"Mom." She stopped breathing and looked at me. "Tell me what happened."

"Juliet…" she whispered, unable to bring herself to finish. I gripped my smoothie, almost crushing it.

"Tell me, please." My voice cracked. It's scary, seeing your mom so broken.

"It's Tyler," she gasped, her hands flying to her face. "He's… he's been killed."

The world slowed. I heard my smoothie crash against the floor, felt the breeze that had seemed so tranquil only moments ago. I leaned my arms on the counter, trying to stop my heart from beating out of my chest. My lungs hurt, everything hurt. It was like getting hit by a train, struck by lightning, drowning… all at once.

"It was that Montag," she whispered, and I had forgotten she was there. "Romeo."

"Romeo?" I choked, the train backing over me again. Romeo could never… Could he? I suddenly realized that I didn't know what he could do.

I took a deep, gasping breath and ran for the stairs.

"Juliet, wait!"

* * *

_When you gonna realize, it was just that the time was wrong…_

I crashed into my room; everything was spinning, round and round and round. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. I felt numb, and for one terrifying second I thought I was dying. It was too hot; I pulled my shirt over my head and collapsed onto my bed in my tank, shivering and sweating and fighting for oxygen.

A sharp tap on my window snapped me back to myself. My neck turned to the window mechanically. Dusk was settling over the earth; it would be dark soon. I walked over with feet of lead and shifted the curtains slightly. Only one person had ever thrown rocks at my window.

Romeo stared up at me from the darkening lawn, grief and guilt swimming in his eyes. I was afraid, a feeling I'd never known around him. I hid behind the curtain, knowing that he'd seen me but unwilling to show myself.

"Juliet, please…" I heard him whisper. "Let me explain, let me try."

I shook my head slowly, tears blurring my vision.

"Juliet, you said you loved me," he pleaded. "We promised each other forever. That's got to count for something. Just… let me try. Talk to me. Then I'll leave, and I won't come back."

"I loved Tyler, too, Ro-" I couldn't even say his name. I wasn't sure what love was anymore.

"I know," he sighed. "And I loved Marc. I bet you want to kill me for killing your cousin, huh? Well, I felt the same way. I just chose to act on it."

"What are you talking ab-"

"They didn't tell you?" he laughed bitterly, sadly. "Tyler killed Marc, Juliet. He killed him, because he couldn't kill me."

So many things I wanted to say caught in my throat and built up until I was sure I'd throw them all up. My cheeks were wet and salty, tears and sweat and truth mingling until I didn't know what anything was anymore.

"I- I didn't know," I muttered pitifully, looking at my bare feet.

"I know, Juliet. I know."

I looked down at his face, full of pain, for what felt like a century.

"Can I come up?"

I nodded silently, and Romeo began to climb the vine-covered trellis under my bedroom window, like in some sappy teen movie. I wished it was just a movie, that the pain was only an act, and in a little while I wouldn't have to feel it anymore.

Romeo slid in through the window frame, and I backed up to make room for him. He reached out as if to touch me, then thought better of it and pulled back. I found myself itching for his touch.

"Juliet, I never meant to hurt you…" His eyes were so sad, so defeated.

"I- I know," I whispered, and suddenly, I did. The world was cruel and ruthless, but I didn't need to be. There was a time when I loved him, and no matter how much I fought it, the love was still there, stirring in my heart. Tyler was dead, but why should love be dead, too? There was too much destruction already tonight.

I placed my palm delicately on Romeo's chest, sensing the heartbeat there.

"I'm sorry, Ro," I whispered, leaning into him.

He laughed softly. "You're apologizing to me?"

I felt his rough hand move to my cheek, wiping away the tears there. I could hear the rapid motion of my breath- in, out, in, out. I was shaking.

"Shh," Romeo murmured, rubbing small circles on my back. "I'm here. And I'm really, really sorry, Juliet." He sighed, pulling me tighter. "I really am."

I breathed against his chest, feeling his body around me. Even after everything that had happened, I still felt safe in his arms. It was the only place I felt safe anymore. Romeo leaned down and kissed my nose delicately, his lips light as ghosts. My body responded to his touch; my arms slid to his waist, my mouth reached up to meet his. His fingers danced in my hair, entwining themselves with the auburn strands.

At that moment, a police car pulled onto my street, sirens wailing. His kisses became more fervent, more hurried; his hands moved more purposefully. I pulled back slightly.

"Romeo…"

"I know," he whispered, pressing his lips back to mine. "I know."

We stood together by the window for a few more moments, neither of us ready to let go. Finally, the cops pulled into my driveway, and my mother opened the door to greet them. Car doors slammed, gruff voices called out in the darkness.

"I should go," Romeo mumbled, wrenching his arms away from me.

"They'll be searching for you," I murmured, afraid. "Where will you go?"

"I'll call Bal. He can take me to our place, that little motel, remember?"

"I remember," I whispered. "The Mantua Inn." I thought of our night there, when things were better. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it was only a few hours.

"Right. That's where I'll be." He positioned himself in the window, ready to descend the trellis. "Juliet, we'll find a way to be together. We will."

"Of course we will. I'll explain to the police… It was self-defense, right?" My eyes were wild, searching his face, trying to remember every detail, as if I'd never see him again.

"Juliet… I'm tired of fighting. Run away with me; we'll live in Chicago, we'll figure something out." His hand found mine in the darkness, and I wanted more than anything to go with him, to drop everything and follow him into the night.

"I'll find you, Romeo," I whispered, my voice cracking. "When it's all over, I'll call the inn and meet you there, and we can stay forever. But now…" I could hear my mother coming up the stairs, the police following with questions I couldn't answer. "Now you have to go. Please go."

I pushed Romeo out into the night, and I watched him move through the shadows until my mother knocked on my door, and he disappeared into the forest.

_No, I don't wanna battle from beginning to end…_


	6. The Aftermath

After I left Juliet's window, I ran for miles, to the next town over. My feet felt like they had been running for centuries; fatigue threatened to take over- physical, mental, and emotion. I didn't know how much farther I could go on. Thankfully, adrenaline took over, and I reached Wilmington, launching myself into the closest gas station pay phone. I slammed all the change in my pocket into the little slot, praying that Bal would pick up. My chest heaved, and for the first time, it hit me: I was a fugitive, running from the law in the name of love. If I hadn't just seen two people die, one at my own hand, I would have felt pretty bad-ass.

As it was, I just felt guilty and sad, but mostly tired. I couldn't wait to get to Chicago, to collapse on a bed in the Mantua Inn. Hell, maybe when I woke up, it would all have been a dream. I'd open my eyes, and Juliet would be right there next to me, right where we were just that morning. We'd still be riding the post-engagement high, and Marc and Tyler would be alive and well, still reeking havoc on the tumultuous city of Verona.

But this was reality. I was in a dirty phone booth, miles from home, and every cop in Verona, maybe the entire county, was hunting for me. And Bal had finally answered his damn phone.

"Hello?" he groaned from the other end. I could hear shouting in the background, and bottles smashing.

"Bal? It's me, Ro," I breathed, praying he was sober enough to drive.

"Romeo?! Where the hell are you, man?! The whole town is looking for you!" At the mention of my name, the shouting got quieter, and I could almost feel the audience listening in.

"What's going on? How… how's my dad?" I tried to sound calm, but I was sure that worry filled my voice. It felt like a bomb had been dropped inside me, dragging me along and waiting to go off.

"Man, the cops are crawling everywhere," Bal said breathlessly, and, as if to clarify, a siren sounded somewhere near him. "All the guys are at your place, getting trashed. The sergeant rounded us up and won't let us leave. He's parked outside. Your dad's at the station with Ben, trying to cut you a break. It really didn't help that you ran away like that, Ro! Marc's dead, everything's going to hell, and you're just running? Shit, man, I thought you were better than that." As he talked, the weight in my stomach got one thousand times heavier, and the fuse got ten inches shorter.

"Fuck," I hissed, wishing I had a beer. In response, a cry went up from the crowd apparently at my house, and more bottles clanked, no doubt toasting the kid who had always kept us together, always kept us smiling, who didn't deserve to die in the street. Who I'd never see again. "Sounds like a party, huh, cuz?" I said bitterly.

"Romeo, seriously, why are you calling? It's been a long night-"

"I need a ride. To Chicago," I sighing, laying out my cards. "And some cash would be great."

"Jesus, Ro…" Bal exhaled, contemplating my request.

"Bal, please, I need you, man," I whispered into the phone, hoping he heard the desperation in my voice.

"Alright, alright," he consented, and I could hear him shuffling around for his keys. "Where are you?"

"Wilmington. I'll be at the Sunoco station off exit 43." Suddenly, I thought of something, adding gruffly, "And bring beer. Lots of beer."

Four hours later, Bal pulled his beat-up Chevy Camaro into the tiny parking lot of the Mantua Inn, just outside Chicago. I was in the passenger seat, already plastered. Bal had cut me off after the first six-pack, but it didn't do much good. By that time, in my drunken stupor, I had explained everything that had happened in the last month and a half- meeting Juliet at the party, sneaking around with her for weeks, getting engaged- all the way up to killing Tyler. Bal just listened, occasionally exhaling loudly or muttering expletives. Mostly, he just watched the road and let me get it all out. I realized that besides me and Juliet, he was the first person to ever really know. Somehow, it felt like the pain in my gut got lighter.

I stumbled into the motel, a six-pack in each hand. Bal gave me a wad of cash and told me to take care of myself, then he drove off into the darkness. The guy who ran the motel recognized me from the night before; he didn't ask questions, just handed me my room key. I took it gratefully and staggered into the room Juliet and I had shared just that morning. How could so much go wrong in such a short time?

It was 2 a.m., and I could feel myself crashing. I lay down on the bed, swigging one more beer and staring up at the ceiling, wondering if somewhere in Verona, a certain heartbroken girl was thinking of me. Hopefully she didn't hate me.

* * *

_You promised me everything, you promised me thick and thin…_

When I woke up the morning after my life changed, I didn't think it was real. I convinced myself that it was all a nightmare, my subconscious' cruel punishment to make up for how happy I had been all summer. And I honestly believed it. I believed it while I brushed my teeth, while I changed out of my crumpled pajamas, while I tamed my long red hair. It wasn't until I walked downstairs to find my mother's huddled form, crying silently at the kitchen table, that the illusion was shattered.

She was surrounded by flower arrangements and cards, sympathy gifts from people who probably hadn't known Tyler at all. Clients, neighbors, classmates. _We're sorry for your loss._ I couldn't help but resent them all; what did they know about my cousin? They couldn't possibly understand our pain. My pain. Last night's grief washed over me like a wave, knocking my backwards and leaving me reeling. My head was pounding; I wanted nothing more than to creep back up the stairs and climb into bed again. I was turning to go when my mother noticed me. Her head snapped up, loose hairs flying around her face in a wild halo.

"Juliet," she said softly, but before she could say more, the doorbell chimed cheerfully, an insult in itself.

I went to answer it, grateful for the distraction, but the person on the doorstep was the last one I expected to see.

"Juliet, hi," Patrick said. "I wanted to see how you were doing."

I frowned, my hand still on the doorknob, and took him in: the bouquet of roses in his arms, his church-perfect attire, not a hair out of place, the look of sympathy on his face that meant he had no idea what I was going through. I really didn't need this right now.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"That's good, I'm glad your coping," he said in what was supposed to be a soothing tone. Patrick glanced inside, but I made no move to let him in. "I brought these for you," he said, too quickly, and thrust the roses forward.

I just looked at them warily, thinking about how Patrick, with his perfect family, spotless reputation, and affinity for loafers, would never be enough for me now, not after what I'd had. Nonetheless, I took the flowers and slowly inched the door closed. Thankfully, Patrick got the hint.

"So, yeah, I'll just go," he said, straightening his tie. I nodded, and he started down the driveway. I watched him go, almost with pity. When he got to his car, he turned around. "It was really good to see you, Juliet." The sincerity in his voice made me feel even worse.

"I need Romeo," I whispered despairingly, slamming the door.


	7. The Plan

"I know it sounds crazy," I said breathlessly, "and you have no reason to trust me, but I just… I really need your help. Please."

Ben looked at me for a long time. We had been sitting in the coffee shop for an hour, during which I had told him every detail of Romeo's and my relationship. He hadn't touched his coffee since I started, but now, he took a long, pensive sip, his eyes never leaving mine.

When I first called him, I knew it was a long shot, but I needed to call _someone. _I couldn't keep living like this. It had been a week since I'd seen Romeo, a week since… everything. The flowers from Tyler's funeral still filled the house, and I felt like I was suffocating just being there. I needed to get out. And Ben was the only person who might be able to help me.

Finally, he sighed. "You really love him, huh?"

I nodded, hopeful.

"Then I'll help. Because I know he loves you. He's been miserable all week," he said, running his hand along the rim of his cup. "I haven't seen him, only talked on the phone, but I can tell. Now it makes sense."

"Thank you, Ben. Really." I was trying not to look too eager, but the prospect of being with Romeo had greatly lifted my spirits. It was like life was worth living again.

"How do you think you're gonna get away with this, though?" he asked, looking genuinely concerned. "You'd have to fake your own death to get away from that family."

I knew he wasn't serious, that it was just an expression, but in that sentence I saw a way out. A path to happiness. A path to Romeo. Yes, it was crazy, but right now, I needed crazy. I knew it was the only way to be free.

"Alright, let's fake my death." I said it lightly, like this decision didn't decide the rest of my life.

"You're not serious, are you?" Ben stared at me like I had six eyes and a tail.

I just nodded, my mind made up. No matter what it took, I would find a way to be with Romeo. I guess Ben saw this, because after a few seconds, he nodded, too.

"Ok," he said with only slight reluctance, "let's figure out how to kill you."

After extensive research on the coffee shop's resident computer, we had a plan. Sort of. We at least had the name of the nearest exotic plant supplier.

"You know that if we don't get this right, this stuff could kill you?" Ben said after I had printed out directions.

I sighed. "Death couldn't keep us apart."

* * *

_I can't do everything but I'd do anything for you…_

The greenhouse was a few towns over, about 20 minutes from Verona. Ben drove me; he waited in the car while I went inside. Exotic smells assaulted my nose as soon as I stepped through the door, but what really struck me was the view. Flowers of every size, shape, and color burst from all directions, popping out from a backdrop of green. I was so overwhelmed by the array of plants that it took me a moment to notice the small man at the back of the room, tending to a bush covered in round, black berries, separated from the rest.

"Uh, excuse me?" I called, approaching the man hesitantly. "Do you work here?"

"Hm? Oh, yes!" He looked up and smiled broadly. His voice was soft and warm. "I am the caretaker of this wonderful oasis. You may call me Lawrence. How may I help you, young woman?"

Well, here goes nothing. "I was wondering if any of your plants were for sale? One in particular, actually… The _Atropa belladonna_?"

He looked at me thoughtfully. "And why on earth would you want that?"

I had a feeling he knew exactly why I wanted it, but still, I found myself telling him the entire story, right up to the plan Ben and I had concocted. It sounded ridiculous, even to me, but something about him told me I could trust him. Like Ben, he never said a word; he only stroked the leaves of the bush absentmindedly. I could only hope that he was sympathetic to young love.

I finished with a sigh. "So please, can you help me? Help us?"

His gaze pierced right through to my soul, and it was a long time before he spoke.

"You really do love this boy?"

"Yes. With all my heart, I do."

"I think I have what you need, dear one." He plucked a branch from the bush and held it up; the three little black berries on it shook. "_Atropa belladonna._ Deadly nightshade."

* * *

_Can't do anything except be in love with you…_

Juliet was one crazy chick, Ben thought as he drove up the I-55 to Chicago. If this didn't work out, if she got the dosage wrong… He pushed the thought aside. All he had to do was get to Chicago, find Romeo, and tell him the plan. Then Ro could bust his girl out of wherever her parents were keeping her and they'd all live happily ever after. Yeah. Everything was going to work out.

Unfortunately, fate had another idea. Only two hours after Ben had left Juliet, he heard a loud _bang!_, and his car ceased its motion. Shit. Halfway to Chicago, and his freaking transmission had blown. Things were not going as planned. He had his car towed to the nearest mechanic, but Big John was already closing up and wouldn't be able to fix anything until the next morning. He offered Ben a ride to a nearby motel, but Ben was already on his phone, trying desperately to call Romeo and tell him not to do anything stupid.

"C'mon, pick up pick up pick up…"

* * *

"Romeo! Romeo, open the door!"

Bal was banging frantically on the door to room 23, but I was too hungover to care. I groaned, burying my face in the pillow to block out the light filtering in. I was vaguely aware of my phone ringing from somewhere under the bed. "Go away," I moaned, to both Bal and the anonymous caller. I was barely able to say the words without puking.

"It's about Juliet! Something's happened!" Bal shouted, panting.

I bolted upright, and regretted it immediately. My head swam, but I forced my mind to focus, for Juliet. I stumbled over to the door and yanked it open, searching Bal's face for a hint of the news.

"I'm so sorry, Ro," he whispered.

What? Sorry about what? I thought we were talking about Juliet…

"She's… she's dead." The look in his eyes was miserable and terrified. "They think it was a suicide. Poisoned herself or something. Her mom found the body. The funeral's in two days…"

But I had stopped listening. The world around me had ground to a halt; I couldn't breathe, couldn't think… My Juliet. My fiancé, my one true love… Gone. It couldn't be true, could it? How could my heart still be beating when its match had ceased to? I collapsed onto the floor in slow motion, my head falling into my hands. No no no no no no—

"NO!" I screamed, sobs wracking my body in waves. Bal was shaking me, pulling me to the bed; I struck out at him with my hands, feet, everything—him, the bearer of the worst news in history. How could this have happened? Would Juliet, beautiful Juliet, really take her own precious life? I wouldn't believe it…

"I have to see her," I muttered, pulling myself back to Earth. "I have to touch her… kiss her goodbye…"

"Ok," Bal sighed, falling away from me back onto the floor. "Ok. Let's go."

"I just have to make one stop."

* * *

_Well, you can fall for chains of silver, you can fall for chains of gold…_

The alley was empty aside from an overflowing dumpster and a darkly tanned man in a wife-beater and too-big jeans. Apollo looked up from the joint he was rolling and smiled at me.

"Romeo, my man! Come to get some more dope? I got a fresh supply…"

"No." My voice was raw and raspy. "I need… I need that stuff you were telling me about. The poison."

Apollo whistled. "That's some heavy stuff, man. It'll cost a pretty penny… Hey, what are you planning?"

"Nothing, I just need it!" I barked, but the dealer looked unconvinced.

"Here," I said quietly, pulling a wad of cash out of my pocket. "It's all I've got. Should be a couple thousand."

Apollo took the money suspiciously and counted it. Finally, apparently satisfied, he pulled out a small vial of black liquid.

"Just be careful, Romeo," he said, and I could tell he was sincere. "Don't do anything stupid, and don't get caught."

I nodded and walked away, back to Bal's waiting car.

"Let's go."

_You can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold…_


End file.
